Divided We Stand
by The Page Of Cups
Summary: This mission will take everything they have. And perhaps, more than they can stand to lose...
1. Chapter 1

"Done planting the explosives?"

"Heh." Omi flashed a devious smile at Yohji, the soft crunch of twigs and dead leaves cushioning his sneakers. "Come on; let's get to the rendezvous point. Better not to blow up their factory until we're ready for them to know they have company."

Sylvan midnight whisked by with songs of cricket and thrush. Under the light perfume of rain and pine lay hints of dirt and rotting wood. Eager fingers tingled with adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Early. Omi sat down and leaned against a tree, listening for trouble. Pale moonlight signed a dance of leafy shadow against gargantuan rock. The eerie crackle of their movement overhead excited him.

Five minutes and the breeze grew irritated. Yohji watched an owl scan the ground for breakfast. Omi reviewed their next plans. As soon as Ken and Aya arrived...

Ten minutes, then seventeen. It was fine; they'd been early.

Time oozed and the wind whirled around them-- twenty-four minutes. Omi contacted them; on their way. Twenty-seven, thirty, a cloud drifted over the moon. The air stilled and light faded, and all the adrenaline that had once flooded Omi's veins now sat curdling in his stomach.

"Try not to worry..." Yohji advised. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and shrugged resignedly. "They're probably caught up in another argument."

"I don't like this feeling..."

-------------------------

"Aya, this can't be right!" Ken slowed to a stop amidst the trees. "We better just call Omi and tell him we're lost. He'll be calling us again wondering where we are if we don't."

Aya, having begrudgingly stopped when Ken had, leveled a steady gaze on his teammate. "This is the correct way," he said. "Let's go."

"Obviously, it's not the right way if we're still not there. We've run a good mile past what we should have. That mile didn't just appear out of thin air!" Ken hesitated, setting his hands on his hips. "Look. I don't like it any more than you do, but we're wasting time and getting further and further from where we're supposed to be going, which means the longer we run -this- way," he gestured ahead of them, "the longer it's going to take to get back."

"This is the right way. I checked our GPS before we left. This," Aya backhanded toward the ground, "is setting us back."

"No, _this_," Ken mimicked Aya's gesture and paused there, frustration hitting its peak as he realized he didn't have actually have a solid counter to follow that.

"_This_ is just stupid! Who cares what the GPS is saying? Listen to common sense!"

"Common sense says satellites can see our position much better than we can. Your move."

"And how much longer do you plan to run this way with no sign of Omi and Yohji because a bundle of circuitry told you to?!"

Aya showed the GPS to Ken. "We're only a quarter of a mile from the rendezvous point... Three more minutes. Then we'll call."

"I'm counting the seconds." Looking back ahead, Ken broke into another run, making exactly one step before the ground gave way beneath him. Momentum propelled him beyond the point of regaining balance. With a strangled cry he flailed his arm, instinctively groping for the nearest thing he could hold onto-- Aya.

Limbs tangled. Tumble and crash to the base of the muddy pit. Ken groaned and waited for his vision to settle. One more screw-up for the record books. For the first time he found himself cursing his fast reflexes.

Aya's crotch in his face helped put his irritation back where it belonged. With a cry of disgust he shoved him off. He got to his feet and brushed the mucky clumps from his jacket and hair, discerning in the process that at least the fall hadn't resulted in any fractures. He looked up the fifteen feet of muddy wall.

"Fantastic." Ken groused, folding his arms. "Well, now we've got no choice. We have to call Omi."

And there was the Look: I'm pissed and I'm going to make sure everybody knows it. Bloody hell.

"Don't start with that! If we'd turned around when I said we should have this never woulda happened. You're the one that was so sure about keeping on this path instead of calling Omi for directions."

"Then call him and get them now." Aya turned his attention to looking around for possible methods of escape.

Goddamn him. Why did he always have to act so cool? Why did he have to be _right_? Ken sharply flicked the headset from standby to talk. "Omi. We're gonna need some back-up. We're kinda stuck here."

"Ehh?" Omi straightened. "What happened, Ken-kun?!"

Ken sighed. "Aya an' I fell in a trap. We're stuck in a pit and it's too deep for us to climb out. We need a hand. Or a rope."

Yohji and Omi exchanged faces. Omi held back a sigh. "Un, I understand. I'll send Yohji-kun to get you out-- where are you?"

"Ah..." Ken looked around, seeing nothing but dirt wall. "Damn it how should I know? We're in a giant pit! It can't be that hard to miss!"

"Ken-kuuun...! Calm down, please. It would still be helpful to have your coordinates." As Omi said this, he prompted Yohji to run while he listened.

Ken turned his eyes towards Aya expectantly. Aya ignored his look and simply reported the coordinates.

"Sou ka..." Movement out of the corner of his eye. Omi whipped his head around. The owl swooped to the ground, talons flexed for capture. "Yohji-kun will be there in just a minute, okay?"

"Wait a minute, what's going on? How come we're not there yet?"

"I really don't know, Ken-kun. I agree it seems a little odd but..." He looked down, checking the coordinates on their own GPS. Blinked. "Eh?"

"What?"

"I..." Crunch. Omi tensed and looked over his shoulder.

"...Omi? Omi?" No answer. Ken switched the headset back to standby and looked at Aya, whose eyes were fixated on the top of the pit.

"Ken. We need to get out. Now." Aya walked over, sparing a momentary glare at the brunet. "Can you support my weight on your hands?"

Ken tightened his fists. "...Yeah. I could do that."

"Get down. I'll stand on your shoulders first. Our combined heights and reaches will put me close enough to pull myself out."

He'll stand on him. Ken knelt by the wall. "How come I have to be on the bottom?"

"Drop it. You're stronger." Aya braced the bulk of his weight against the wall and stepped onto Ken's shoulders. Though it took some effort, Ken managed to stand back up to his full height.

"Lift your arms and lock your elbows."

Ken obeyed, mind on Omi. What had happened? Was he okay? It wasn't like him to cut off like that. And Yohji! Why hadn't he reached them yet? Ken's stomach clenched.

Aya steadied himself against the wall, gaze set on the top. He jumped to the ledge. Arms grappled around the top for something solid, crinkling leaves until they found purchase with some clumps of grass. Finally, he dragged his body out of the vacuum of the pit's gravity field.

And saw rows of boots. Boots connected to legs of several armed men, rifles pointed right at him.

He almost got the chance to move.


	2. Chapter 2

Ken had a distinctly unpleasant feeling in those weighted moments of silence following Aya's reaching the top. Like time grew stiff, and nothing breathed or moved; nothing could.

Suddenly, the world churned back to life. Short voices erupted over each other. Aya's feet vanished over the brim. Debris kicked down, chaos of struggle. Ken pressed his back against the wall. Listened.

Shoonk. "Aya!"

He received no answer from the redhead himself. Instead, several figures surrounded the pit, aiming their guns down at him.

"Disarm yourself and put your hands in the air." One barked in order.

No place to hide; no time to escape. No choice-- fuck. Ken grit his teeth and took off his claws, tossing them onto the ground. He raised his hands as instructed.

Shoonk.

Ken cringed and pulled out the dart in his shoulder, just before sinking to his knees and collapsing into a world of black.

-------------------------

Omi ducked low, warily eying the guards running past his hiding spot behind the Camellia. This mission was not going well. Anxiety held his breath. The guards had stopped running.

"Everybody!" he whispered into the headset. "We have big trouble."

"We have bigger trouble, Omi. There's no pit here."

"That's because the GPS coordinates are faulty! According to it, we weren't even waiting at the rendezvous point!"

"What?"

Omi didn't answer. The guards were looking his way.

"Omi?"

Was that a tracking device?

"Omi!"

He paled and looked at the GPS.

"There he is!"

Omi jerked his head up, eyes frozen on the guard's weapon.

Shoonk.

-------------------------

Ken first registered the buzzing headache in his forehead. His vision swam before him, causing a vaguely sick feeling in his stomach. He next registered that he'd been stripped naked, but the room didn't feel cold to Ken. Hazily, his eyes traveled to the splash of color in the next cell over. Aya.

Also stripped naked. Ken bolted upright. "What the hell?! Where are we?!"

Aya's expression was impenetrable. He seemed to have already recovered from the drug's effects and positioned himself to be both comfortable and ready. Violet eyes stayed trained on the heavy double doors leading into the room. If he was bothered by his lack of clothing, it wasn't showing.

"We've been caught. We're inside Ikeda's base."

Ken squinted and rubbed his forehead, seeking to rid himself of the nagging pressure in his skull. As his head cleared, he took in his surroundings. The cell held nothing but a pair of manacles draped against the wall.

The rest of the room looked little better. Cells lined one wall. The wall to the right had a storage cabinet, a couple of tables along the wall, a stack of chairs, and a wall mount of electric batons.

More racks on the rear wall. Whips and rods with forked ends, spear points, rakes of claws. A wooden post with coils of rope stood by the whips. The left wall hosted sets of manacles and rings-- and the exit at the near end. More rings and hooks dotted the ceiling and floor, along with two inactive spotlights amongst the ceiling lights and the occasional grate on the stone floor.

Well, the man -had- made the target list for torturing people as test subjects for his devices. Ken saw no reason to think they'd be treated any better. Still, it was strange. When he thought of torture chambers, he thought of the rack. The iron maiden. Clunky monstrosities of demonic furniture. The closest he saw to any of that was a low platform situated near the door, straps clearly designed to hold down a human figure hanging from the edges. A table in the middle of the room displayed an assortment of small instruments, most of which Ken didn't want to know the mechanics for using. The rest of the floor was relatively bare.

"The room is bugged. Don't talk about anything you don't want them to know."

Ken's eyes wandered the room in distrust. "What're we doing?"

"Waiting."

"What are we waiting for?"

"Ikeda will make his move soon. Ken, are you ready for anything?"

Ken only needed to glance back out at the room to understand what Aya was asking him. Was he? Knowing what he knew from those reports? A new sensation of nausea crept into his stomach that had nothing to do with the drug. He steeled his expression.

"Ready as I'm gonna be."

Aya's eyes finally moved onto Ken, not looking satisfied with that answer. He looked back at the door without further word.

Ken swallowed just to put a dent in the silence. "You okay?"

"Uninjured."

Alone in a room with Aya, their conversational genius. It was gonna be a long wait.

-------------------------

Three guards. Damn. Omi watched from his tree limb perch, absolutely still as they closed in on the bait, blindly following their tracker to the GPS unit that lay alone amongst the shrubs. By the time they realized he wasn't with it, it was too late. Three flickers of bright green were the last things they saw.

He swung down and marched over, plucking away the guards' tracking device and his GPS. He held the screens side by side and knitted his eyebrows. Mismatched.

How could they be wrong? Ikeda could be distorting the satellite signal with a delay in the reply, but he shouldn't be able to do that unless he had access to its data and response system. Were his connections really that deep?

A hawk screeched in the distance; Omi clenched the GPS. Thank goodness he'd memorized the map beforehand, but Ken and Aya... no wonder they hadn't found the rendezvous point. And--

"There you are."

Omi jumped at the voice behind him. He clutched his chest and exhaled a sigh. "Yohji-kun. You scared me. Come look at this!"

Yohji glanced at the screens and looked incredulously at Omi. "They've been tracking the GPS signals?"

"He's probably programmed his trackers to compensate for the distortion. And Aya-kun's...!" Omi dropped the devices to the ground. Fists tightened. Made himself ask. "Did you find the pit?"

"Eventually... It was already empty by then."

Omi sucked in a breath. Bowed his head, clearly fighting tears. Yohji clucked his tongue and sighed.

"We don't have time to stand around here, Omi. We're inviting trouble waiting by the GPS. Let's find a good hiding place."

Omi nodded mutely. They ran.


	3. Chapter 3

Ikeda's stone fortress, set within a foothill, sat virtually invisible to the outside eye. Only the front door spoiled the deception. The lack of windows made security cameras an invaluable precaution-- when they worked. This particular night had not yielded a fruitful harvest of information on the attackers. They'd been very good about taking them out, so far only missing the one overlooking the pit. Sato Toshihiro, captain of the security team, felt this most likely due to the same distracted carelessness that had landed them there in the first place.

He stopped outside the mahogany doors leading to Ikeda's suite, keeping his vision directly ahead to avoid a glance in the mirrors in the hall. He'd seen the other side of those doors dozens of times, and it never had felt right. The office projected an energy of confidence and majesty that quite simply dwarfed its owner's. Perhaps that was half the reason Sato could get away with such informal relations with him despite the nearly fifteen years that stood between their ages. He fingered the gun nestled at his hip, then knocked.

"Come in, Sato."

His hands relaxed at his sides as he came to a stop before the desk, the soft crush of a Persian rug under his feet. "I have an update on the situation: we've discovered another of them."

"This takes the count to four, then?"

"Correct."

"And the status?"

"Both uncontained as of yet. We're working on it."

"That's disappointing; you're usually more efficient than this. What's your casualty count?"

Sato's expression tightened. "Seven."

"Is it really? I thought it was just a boy and a..." Ikeda stopped. "Who is this other one, by the way?"

"I'm not sure. We haven't pinpointed his location."

Ikeda's eyes narrowed. "I see. What do you know?"

"He fights with wire concealed in his watch. It's like fishing twine. He's already killed four men with it."

"That makes him far more deadly given how much less time he's been fighting."

The wrinkle between Sato's brows deepened. "Ultimately, it does, thanks to his weapon. That watch can probably hold more than enough wire. On the other hand, one can only carry so many darts. It stands to reason then that the young man using them has to attack conservatively to avoid running out. That puts him at a significant disadvantage. Once we find him again, sheer numbers will win."

A nod. "Good. Have them join their friends when you catch them, will you? I'd like them both alive."

"Understood."

-------------------------

Two minutes felt like an hour. Ken picked at his thumbnail, mulling over the situation in an attempt to be constructive. It wasn't really working.

He looked at Aya. "Think the others are okay?"

A look of displeasure found its way back in Ken's direction. "That they aren't in this room will have to be enough."

No. Not a good enough answer. Ken wanted to know that they were alive, unhurt, and uncaptured. That they weren't in the room was hardly reassurance.

Having a thought, he lifted his hand to his ear, but found-- to no surprise-- that the headset had been removed. Damn. That really would have been handy about now.

Ken guessed their captors must have figured the same thing.

Blinking while his hand lingered at his ear, Ken wrinkled his brow and took another good look at Aya. Eyes widened slightly. Something else was missing.

"Your earring..."

The resolute glare on the door turned murderous, Aya's visible fist clenching.

Ken chewed briefly on his lower lip, easily picking up on the wave of anger from the subject of the earring. He dropped it.

-------------------------

Yohji brushed some debris from his sleeve and slumped against the wall of the ditch. Omi was curled over with his head down. Yohji studied him in silence, then lit a cigarette.

The first half he smoked in silence. He watched the faint tremble of leaves, listened to their crumpled song. One by one, the breeze plucked them from their branches and scattered them to the earth. Blonde strands tickled his neck, like the ghost of a lover's fingers.

His gaze drifted skyward, not a trace of the moon shining through the treetops. Maybe it was the scenery, maybe it was the cigarette, but he felt an odd sense of peace blanketing the tension of their dilemma.

He glanced back at Omi, and felt his eyes soften. "We'll get them back. Pull yourself together..."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to do what we always do," he reflected with ironic humor. "Wing the job by the seat of our pants. This isn't the first time we've hit a snag."

"This isn't a snag, Yohji-kun. This is a disaster. Ken-kun and Aya-kun are imprisoned, we've got dozens of armed guards looking for us, our headsets are useless unless we want to risk eavesdropping, and we still have to infiltrate the fortress and eliminate the target. A target who's marked for mutilating people beyond recognition! I'm worried, Yohji-kun. What if they're under torture in there?"

Yohji heaved a sigh. "They probably are... Being unlucky like that runs in the business."

"You're not helping, Yohji-kun!"

"No..? It sounds just right to me. We're not doing so hot ourselves." Yohji tipped his head. "...And being unlucky is what keeps us together. Isn't it?"

Omi peeked at the ground between his feet. Yohji turned his eyes on him, regarding him in silence for a few moments. He sucked up the last drag of his smoke and rubbed it out. "So... do you want them back or not?"

A pause.

There was that hard-lined look. Yohji smiled. Break time was over.

-------------------------

The door lurched. Ken and Aya tensed, readying themselves.


	4. Chapter 4

A man in a gray business suit strode into the dungeon, his hands clasped behind his back: Ikeda Takashi. Ken had seen the man before; his profile had appeared on the television of the mission room. He walked until he stood midway between Ken's and Aya's cells and faced them.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "Please pardon the substandard waiting arrangements, however it's against personal policy to grant freedom of mobility to armed trespassers. These conditions can be remedied with cooperative efforts. Tell me, why are you here? There's nothing to be found in this area except my home."

Ken already didn't like this guy. "Substandard? Compared to most of your other guests I'd say this is pretty nice."

Ikeda's eyes flickered to the table of small instruments. "Touché. I dare wager you'd prefer it stay that way?"

Ken didn't answer. Ikeda looked back.

"Hm. Swords and bugnucks: a savage pair, aren't you?"

Flash, flash, flash from the mission room television. Mangled bodies. Pain-wracked expressions. Eyeless sockets that had cried blood. Savage? Ken's every muscle tightened.

The corner of Ikeda's mouth turned up. "I do wonder, what purpose could you possibly have out here with those things? And with such knowledge of unfortunate other visitors."

Visitors. Elders. Mothers. _Children_. Ken snarled. "You coward. Save your breath."

"I do believe there's a respectable difference between cowardice and common sense, don't you agree? You clearly pose a threat to my safety unrestrained. I'm not so stupid as to grant you freedom from childish baiting." Ikeda's hands slid into his pockets.

"I can satiate my curiosity with other methods if necessary, however I doubt you'll find them as pleasant. It's your own decision; you can volunteer information now, or have it pulled from you by force. I'm offering you the considerable courtesy of a choice in the matter, and the opportunity to spare yourselves a great deal of unnecessary trauma. Pass it by, and you may consider my graciousness expired." He thinned his lips and withdrew his hands. "Tell me, who sent you and why are you here?"

"Fuck you with a pineapple, I'm not sayin' a word."

"It's a little late for that, I'm afraid." He looked to the redhead, who had been far more capable of holding his tongue. "Your answer?"

Looks alone couldn't kill, but Aya had a marvelous impression.

"...Very well. Delude yourselves with ideas of the value of patriotism all you like. The end will be the same. Do not expect conditions to move in any direction save bad to worse until you change your minds."

As Ikeda turned for the door, a man in uniform entered the room, his skin splotched with scar tissue. Ken grimaced; someone had seen better days.

"I have another update," he said to Ikeda. "We've found the boy looking for a way in. We should have him under custody soon."

"Any sign of his teammate?"

"Not yet."

"How are the numbers?"

"Steadily dropping."

Ken's eyes lit. Yes!

Ikeda's mouth quirked. "Sato, why don't we focus on the wire man? You said yourself he's more dangerous. Let's forget about the brat for now."

"With a little more time, we should have the boy; then we can put full attention on his teammate. I don't think he's inexperienced. He's being careless right now because he's under such heavy pressure. With two teammates captured, he must be feeling panicked."

"He's not a threat as long as he's on the run, is he? Leave a couple of soldiers on his tail and put the rest onto finding the other!"

"...Fine," Sato conceded, and led the way out.

Ken couldn't stop his grin. His eyes twinkled with renewed spirit as they settled on Aya once more.

"So, think you can hold out against these bastards for a while?"

Aya grimly regarded Ken for a moment. "Can you?"

"Are you challenging me?"

No answer. Ken snorted and glared at Aya. He smiled. "Bring it on."

-------------------------

Omi panted for breath. Crunching leaves swarmed from behind-- they were getting closer. He looked over his shoulder; tripped. Omi cried out in surprise and whumped to the ground.

"Keep running, Yohji-kun!"

Silence answered from one direction, an onslaught of darts from the other. Omi scrambled out of the way-- narrow evasion. He clutched his midsection; that fall had really knocked the wind out of him.

The guard grinned at the small figure seeking escape in the thick depths of the lightless forest. He lifted his communicator. "Captain, we've got him. His teammate's with him, just a little further ahead."

Omi skidded to a halt.

Sato answered from main control. "Understood. I'll send back-up to help secure them."

Shriek. Thump. Sato tensed briefly. He sent double back-up.

-------------------------

Yohji appreciated that Ikeda's venting system didn't have many cobwebs. Even so, a cigarette would be good right about now. His tongue edged towards his lips, seeking the nonexistent roll of tobacco-- nothing to play with. He adjusted the flooring, slipped his fingers under the paneling...

He held his breath, absolutely silent as the conversation of two young guards on the run approached and receded.

"And then she got all mad when I explained why her combo moves looked like a guy with epilepsy and she walked out!"

"I guess she didn't like video games."

Yohji blinked, then dropped down into the hall, watching with dry humor as they turned the corner, never noticing him. Short brown hair, small figure, splash of freckles, fiery temper? Yeah, he remembered the rant about -that- one over breakfast. Amateurs.

-------------------------

Ikeda returned a short while later, flanked by several uniformed guards. They marched to Ken's cell and threw back the door. Ken nearly fumbled backwards, but quickly resumed a ready stance. So he was first, huh? Well, he'd said bring it on. He'd meet it with a brave face.

After a brief struggle, the guards took him to a wooden post and tied his hands to it so that his back was exposed. He kept a steady glare on Ikeda. Bastard. Just wait until the tables turned, and Ken had every confidence that they would be.

One guard grabbed the bullwhip on the wall, lines of tiny silver studs protruding from the braids of leather. Ken grimaced for just a second, then hardened his expression with resolve.

"You know, Ikeda, if you wanted to know my threshold for pain, you only had to ask..."

"Unfortunately, the aim of what one might dub extreme measures of persuasion is not to know the threshold for pain, but to cross it."

"Extreme measures of persuasion? Boy that's a fancy way of saying torture. Just how much practice do you guys get at being politically correct anyway?"

Ken wasn't graced with more answer than the first strike of the bullwhip.

-------------------------

Yohji's fingers pecked against the keyboard in the security room, investigating the various scenes Ikeda's cameras had to offer. Nothing, nothing, a few lost guards, a recording of the pit capture... Ah. Yohji's eyes narrowed, staring at the live feed of Ken at the whipping post.

"So that's where you are..."

Someone gasped. Yohji whipped his head around and cursed under his breath. What a shame. Well, there was only one way to handle situations like this.

"Ahh, that's unlucky for you." Yohji tsked and pulled two feet of wire from his watch, peeking at the guard over his sunglasses. "You're not supposed to know he's a decoy yet. You have to keep it a secret now."

-------------------------

The air felt barren. Cracks of whip against tender flesh. Grunts, choked back cries, gasping yells. Finally, the guards cut the ropes holding Ken's hands. He leaned against the whipping post for support, easing himself to the ground while his limbs trembled from fatigue.

Ikeda rocked on the balls of his feet. "So... Feeling any more talkative, or do you prefer screaming to coherent speech?"

Ken's lungs gulped in breath. He glared hard at the ground.

"Suck balls. I'll take screaming."

Without further word to Ken, Ikeda's eyes leered towards Aya. "And you echo his sentiments?"

Violet eyes met Ikeda's gaze, a few moments of silence buffering question and answer. "I'll stick with 'fuck you with a pineapple'," he said coolly.

Ken faltered, and competitive spirit gave way to an appreciative smile in the redhead's direction. Yeah. Definitely in this together.

Ikeda sniffed. "I wouldn't think it wise to give a connoisseur of sadism any more ideas than he already had. Very well."

A nod to the guards. They hefted Ken to his feet by the arms with no regard for the stinging stripes across them. They turned him around.

Pushing him backward, each guard held an arm up, and they were once again bound to the post. Ken was too stunned to struggle, having expected a trip back to the cell. Wasn't it Aya's turn now?

Or not. Apparently, they were going to do the same thing to his front half now. Suddenly, Ken had an epiphany, and looked down in dawning horror at his exposed manhood.

Oh, snap. This was _really_ going to suck...


	5. Chapter 5

Through the entirety of Ken's ordeal with the whip, Aya never took his eyes from him, bearing the moments with him in a silent display of support. In what he assumed to be the interest of keeping Ken conscious, the strikes to his groin had stayed mercifully peripheral. When the guards took him back down, his front perfectly matched his back, and his legs refused to support his weight. They roughly dragged him to an adjacent wall and hung him in manacles. Ken had no choice but to slump against the wall and smear it with blood.

Ikeda finally looked to Aya and smirked.

Aya didn't falter as the guards took him from the cell and situated him, securing his hands over his head about ten feet from the wall, directly facing Ken. Ken kept his head turned.

Two guards approached with electric batons, each assuming a place beside them.

"These two gentlemen," Ikeda gestured to the guards, "are under orders to watch your eyes. If you ever let your gaze leave your teammate's, he'll be electrocuted."

Ken's eyes quickly widened, while Aya's narrowed. Both gazes locked onto the other's. Ken's hands balled into tight fists; Aya kept himself neutral. Don't give Ken any reason to worry that could be helped. Be the unreactive rock.

Aya quickly reminded himself of that as another guard knelt at his other side. No looking down.

"You'll hold still if you don't want any more trouble than necessary."

Aya held still anyway, simply because he wasn't going to give Ikeda the satisfaction of taking away his control. All the same, it was unnerving not knowing what was coming. The question was quickly answered. A gloved hand moved out, albeit stiffly, and after a couple of brief hesitations--

Ken's expression turned distraught. The guard began to fondle Aya with light touches and strokes.

Ever so slightly, Aya tensed. This was not happening.

Except it was.

-------------------------

"You're late, Yohji-kun!"

Yohji lit another cigarette as he slid in behind the foliage and squatted beside Omi. "It couldn't be helped, could it? You wouldn't want me coming back empty-handed..."

"Un," Omi agreed, somewhat reluctantly. He looked away, voice dropping. "Mission successful then?"

"As far as it could be. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"The bad news."

"I couldn't map out a clear path to the room where they're holding Ken and Aya. Ikeda's visiting them personally, and there are as many guards inside as out. It's going to be suicide trying to finish this mission." Yohji sighed and cast his gaze skyward. "What a pain... And I could have been on a date tonight."

"What's the good news?"

"The good news is he's toying with them right now. If we play our cards right, we might be able to fish their tails out of the fire before he does anything serious." Yohji closed his eyes and savored a long breath of smoke. "Of course, the convenience of having Ikeda and both of them all in the same room also means we don't have any time for playing around. It's only a matter of time before he buckles down on them. And once that happens..." Yohji flicked the ash off the tip of his cigarette, gaze hardening.

"So." He turned to Omi. "What are we doing?"

Omi sat quietly for a full minute. Then smiled.

-------------------------

Sato stared from the doorway at the corpse on the floor. He approached slowly, kneeling to shut the young man's eyes. Red lines around his neck: the one with the wire, inside. Sato's heart thumped against the retired dog tag under his uniform. He lifted his communicator. "Attention troops. Regroup inside. Return to your stations. Third division, concentrate watch around the front door. Everyone: be careful."

-------------------------

Aya tried to keep the flush from his cheeks. Don't react-- not emotionally at least. Not reacting physically wasn't quite possible.

Ken was abnormally quiet. Aya studied him-- the bracketed mouth, the furrowed eyebrows, the eyes that would have looked away if they'd had the choice. What was he thinking?

Ken suddenly smiled fiendishly.

"So, did you hear about that Red Diamonds game? It was beautiful. The guy manages a bicycle kick into the goal in the last two minutes of the game. Made play of the week easy."

Aya stared; Ken beat everything. Naked, whipped, and bloodied, watching his teammate get-- ...and he was talking about _soccer_! Of all the...

Casual conversation. A distraction from the humiliation. And one that made the required eye contact less awkward to boot. Just the sort of odd but practical solution he should have expected from Ken.

Odd but charming.

"Bicycle kick?" A faint smile came to his mouth.

And Ken's smile, despite his misery, warmed.

"Aa, it's when you jump in the air and kick a ball backwards over your head. Aiming is near impossible with it since your target's behind you when you make the kick. That's why it was such a big deal."

The hand pulled away once Aya was fully erect, and he resisted a hiss from the ache it left between his legs. He was grateful for Ken's smile. That simple, normal smile like none of this was actually happening. Now that the touch was gone he could concentrate on reversing its effects.

It shouldn't be so hard to get rid of an erection. Just think of something to completely turn you off of sex, like... only his brain couldn't come up with anything, because Ken was smiling. There was no choice but to wait for it to go away on its own, which meant going back to the soccer conversation.

Or he would have gone back to it, had he had the chance.

Ikeda signaled, and both boys received a strong jolt. Ken tore a quick glare of indignation to their captor.

"Hey! We're following your rules just fi--"

The baton connected with Aya's chest, pulsing current through his muscles. He screamed. Ken immediately redirected his gaze to him.

"Sorry." Ken grit his teeth, keeping his eyes on Aya this time. "What was that first one for?"

"I never said you could talk to each other, did I?"

"You never said we couldn't."

They electrocuted Ken again. Aya's expression wavered; this wasn't fair. Ken was having to endure so much stress, physical and emotional alike. Aya didn't blame him for the worn look on his face as he forced his head to lift again. He schooled his features, returning to Ken a look of sternness and fortitude. Don't quit, Ken.

Don't quit.

-------------------------

For a mind preoccupied with thoughts of video games and dates gone horribly wrong, it would be very easy to miss the details of the surrounding forest as one worked his way back to his assigned station. Given that, Nao applauded himself for catching sight of the guard lying spread eagle just up ahead, a neon green dart embedded in his chest.

"Ready, Yohji-kun?"

Nao froze and clenched his eyes shut. Crap. That had to be the enemy, and he was alone.

"Aa, go ahead and put it in."

The squelch of flesh nearly made Nao sick on the spot. One of them hissed. "You're rough, Omi! Not so hard!"

"Sorry! It's less painful that way, trust me!"

"Like _hell_ it is...!"

"Shhh! Yohji-kun, someone's going to hear you!"

Too late, Nao thought, but he wasn't about to tell them that. He liked being alive. He backed away quietly and scurried for the fortress, trying desperately to rid his memory of that disturbing encounter.

-------------------------

Conversational distractions outlawed, Ken's mind had no choice but to focus on the sight before him: Aya, bound and naked, and sporting a rather impressive hard-on. Ken was not aroused by humiliation, and while he'd never particularly gotten close to Aya, he took no pleasure in seeing him abused. But the simple fact was that Aya _was_ an attractive man, and the porn industry was not a blazing success for no reason.

Ken understood all of this in his head, but it didn't make his body's reaction any less confusing or mortifying.

If it had been a trial to hold his eyes on Aya watching him touched against his will to a state of arousal, it was an absolute ordeal to do it while the man had a front row view of his own. Aya was not oblivious to it if that dumbfounded stare was any indication. Shit, shit, shit.

Ikeda walked over to Ken and leaned forward with a Cheshire cat smile.

"I take it you like what you see..?"

Ken was instantly scarlet. "Shut up!"

Ikeda stood back up. "You didn't say no."

Aya's eyes widened slightly. Ikeda continued. "Is this your first time having thoughts like this?"

"I said shut up!"

"You didn't say no again."

"That's right I said shut up! I don't care what you think!"

"It seems to me you care quite a bit. Could this have more to do with caring about what he thinks?"

Ken's hands found the strength to clench into tight fists. "Fuck you. Fuck you hard. You gonna do what you said or just keep asking questions that don't matter to what you want?"

A nod to the guard. Electricity crackled through Ken's body, coursing fire through every nerve. Ken was sure he could smell his skin cooking.

"I wouldn't be so quick to speak of 'hard fucks' given the interrogation you're currently under. It leads one to wonder just what you've got on your mind."

Ken gasped for breath. "...I'm not thinkin' of that!"

"Hmm. Would you be top or bottom with him, I wonder..."

"Neither! Cut it out!"

Ikeda turned to Aya. "What do you think? You know him much better than I do."

"Damn it, Aya, don't you dare answer him!"

"I think you should," Ikeda smoothly drew a dagger from the inside of his coat and set the blade against the side of Ken's throat. "It's not worth spilling blood over, is it?"

Aya scowled. "That's a cheap move."

"Then his life doesn't matter..?"

A long stretch of silence prevailed; Ken swallowed against the blade. It did matter, didn't it? "...Aya!"

Aya's mouth hardened into a straight line. "Bottom."

"You know? I think I quite agree." Ikeda replaced the knife in his coat pocket while Ken worked his jaw and only through sheer force of will managed to keep his gaze on Aya. That bastard!


	6. Chapter 6

The wind howled through the trees, spindling fallen leaves into miniature tornadoes. Omi clung to Yohji's arm as he watched the fortress entrance. Guards scavenged the area for signs of their presence, unable to detect the vindictiveness that simmered beneath his skin. Every rustle and scratch committed him to a survey of the area, lest it be more than a harmless animal. His mind walked a thread of determination, the pressure for success on one side, the anxiety of failure on the other. Somewhere behind those doors, Ken and Aya...

"You're cutting off the circulation, Omi."

Omi sheepishly let go of Yohji's arm. "Sorry... Promise you'll be all right?"

Yohji cast him a cautious look. He held it a little longer than Omi found comfortable. "Save the worrying for your own sake."

"I just don't want any more screw-ups," he said with a cringe. What was this strange weight in his stomach? Yohji's hand fit itself over his shoulder, offering a brief gesture of comfort. It was appreciated.

"I won't be long." Yohji pushed his sunglasses up as he turned, looked around, and slipped off towards the door.

Omi bit his lip and watched him. Be careful, Yohji.

-------------------------

Ken entertained the thought of deliberately looking away from Aya-- call him bottom would he?-- but found to his slight annoyance that he couldn't quite bring himself to follow through with it. The nature of their circumstances made it quite the wrong time for deliberate injury.

Later, he promised himself. His peripheral vision noticed Ikeda whispering to one of the guards. They moved warily to either side of him with rope, lassoed each leg around the knee and hoisted them through a pair of rings. Ken dangled completely off the ground with his legs held in a spread.

He was not happy about this on a number of levels.

One of the guards opened a cabinet and withdrew a dildo. Ken winced. "Oh jeez, you've gotta be kidding!"

"I think you should be glad it isn't a pineapple," Ikeda said.

"Go to hell!"

The guard squatted in front of Ken, spit on the dildo in a crude attempt at mercy, and through the young man's assorted noises of discomfort and shock, pushed it fully inside.

Though it had hardly been restful, the time slumped against the wall had restored a small degree of Ken's strength. Just trying to get used to having something foreign inside him _there_ of all places caused him to writhe and pull against the ropes and manacles holding him-- until he heard electricity and screaming. He forced his eyes back on Aya.

"That's right, keep looking at him-- and don't push it out."

He bit down hard. This was exposed and humiliated beyond any level that a human should have to go through. Worst of all was the fact that any chance of it softening in the next two minutes had just been shot.

-------------------------

Yohji soundlessly inched closer to the fortress and its teeming supply of guards. He peeked over his shades; this was going to be tough to pull off. They couldn't afford any more 'screw-ups,' as Omi had so politely labeled them.

He looked over his shoulder to check on him one last time. If he hadn't known where to look, he never would have seen the blue eyes peeking through the gap in the bush. They nodded. Yohji readied himself and moved between a pair of trees.

He saw it coming: the quick rise of the arms with a gun from his peripheral vision, triggering a ripple through the squad. Yohji ducked his head and ran, followed by a barrage of fired projectiles.

Omi didn't move as he watched his only remaining companion dragged away, a dart lodged in his right arm.

-------------------------

The captain immediately relayed the news to Ikeda. "Capture confirmed," he whispered. "The man using the garrote is under custody. We'll add him to the room as soon as we've finished searching him."

"Excellent!" Ikeda turned a beaming smile on Sato. "Let's step outside the room for a moment, shall we?" Ikeda led the way, his smile disappearing once the door closed behind him. "I'm glad to see you've gotten things together. I must admit, I've been worried."

Sato's eyebrows lifted. "Excuse me?"

"Well you've only just caught him, and it's been several hours, hasn't it? Really, if you'd quit wasting your time on the little brat when I'd told you to, you could have had this one far sooner."

"Actually, Ikeda, I did quit when you told me to. We went after the boy again when it seemed his teammate was with him. I'll apologize for the lack of timeliness, but I haven't disobeyed any orders... and I don't think it's smart to take the boy so lightly."

Ikeda sighed. "You also thought with a little more time and sheer numbers you'd have him long ago. You still don't."

"Exactly." Sato frowned.

"Sato... Consider how threatening he's been. He's managed to take out a few guards, but he couldn't even sneak inside the fortress."

"He was smart enough to figure out we were using their GPS units to track their locations-- and to use that knowledge against us in setting a trap."

Ikeda sent Sato a tired look. "Yes, he's intelligent, but that only gets a person so far without the physical skills to go with it. I'm not concerned; as long as he's alone, how much damage can he possibly do?"

"Honestly, I'd rather not find out."

"I think you may be giving him too much credit. I understand his circumstances are... That is, if you're sympathizing with his situation--"

"I'm not." Sato stated with sudden sharpness.

Ikeda held a long and silent gaze at the captain. "Of course. Let's complete the set then, shall we? If you'll go to the holding room for our prisoners' belongings, I believe you'll find something we can use..."

-------------------------

Aya flexed his arms against the restraints binding them over his head-- a futile effort to improve the circulation. The minutes sweated past with nothing to break the silence save the hum of live batons. It was maddening. The sight of Ken made it difficult not to think about Ikeda's top or bottom question. He was sure Ikeda planned it that way. If he'd only known how far it would go, but there was no choice now except to keep looking at Ken and his plainly agitated expression. Aya couldn't say he blamed him for it.

"You suck for that answer." Ken eventually griped.

"Did you expect me to answer the other way?"

"Would it have hurt so much to? Look where it led! No. Wait. Don't look!"

"There's little choice in that matter."

"Ch. Then I hope you're happy."

Aya nearly blanched. "Why would I be?"

"Well, look at you! Standing there nice and tall with that last shred of dignity, because you just couldn't **bear** to part with it. I mean, that's why you said I'd be on bottom, right?"

Aya wished he could close his eyes. "That's right. You're stronger."

Ken's expression cracked. The doors opened again, and both men fell silent.

-------------------------

Ikeda returned with two guards in tow. They dragged in Yohji, naked and-- like Aya-- missing his earring. A fresh wave of embarrassment flushed through Ken's body, adding to the already high tide. Emotion heaved and swirled in his chest from the conversation with Aya. He was glad it had been interrupted. Of course, that interruption also meant Omi was the only one left-- not good. Omi was clever, but could he really compensate for all of their losses? Ken almost wished he would abandon them and save himself.

No. Omi wouldn't give up like that. Neither would he.

His body ached under the toll of abuse, the feeling that he'd been straught tight and plucked like a guitar string. Fatigue throbbed through every inch of his body-- wrists, knees, neck, stomach, and then there was the simple fact that he was tired and wanted to sleep.

"So, how are you feeling?" Ikeda asked him.

"Bastard, I already told you I'm not talking!"

"How very commendable." Treachery loomed in the sleekness of his voice. "Please allow me to reward you."

Ken had a bad feeling about that.

The guards with the electric batons finally moved away and dropped Ken from the manacles and rope-- fuck but that hurt when you were impaled! He squinted ahead; two chairs had been placed in the middle of the room, positioned to face one another. Each chair sat beside a table with three numbered containers.

An electric baton hovered over his head, humming like a swarm of wasps.

"Crawl to the chair, will you?"

Bastard. Ken moved himself into a crawling position-- and immediately clasped his hands around the guard's leg.

"I wouldn't hit me unless you wanna taste it, too." He warned. Leaving one hand on the guard's leg, Ken made a sudden grab for the guard's wrist. In the confusion of the moment, it left the guard too afraid to use the baton.

Ken had been counting on that. By the time another guard was close enough, Ken had gotten to his feet, wrestled the baton away, and pointed it toward the reinforcements.

"Cut him loose," he ordered, and gestured his head towards Aya.

-------------------------

Omi carefully slipped around the trees and edged towards the fortress. With the other three captured, all the guards would be focused on finding him. Caution was imperative.

"Are you listening, boy?"

Omi's throat clutched his breath and refused to let go. He jerked his hand to the headset.

"Your three teammates have been taken prisoner. You have twenty minutes to surrender at the fortress gate before Ikeda starts killing them. No negotiations."

The headset shut off.

-------------------------

Somehow, Aya wasn't really surprised to see Ken mutiny. He was stubborn by nature, and while on one level it was stupid given the odds, on another level Aya had to respect and admire that Ken never let a detail like probability stand in the way of being true to his heart. Even if it meant pain, even if it meant death, even if it meant terrific sacrifice, Ken had always stood by his convictions.

On the other hand, sometimes he was just a damned hothead.

Ikeda pursed his lips. Personally taking one of the other guards' batons, he edged closer under Ken's wary leer, who readied himself to fight the two-on-one odds.

With a darting jab of the arm, Ikeda connected the baton not to Ken, but to the guard he was holding. Both men took the shock, held for several seconds. Both men collapsed.

"Ken!" Aya gave his ropes a sudden strong tug. He focused hard on Ken's body, wanting to make sure that the man was still breathing. He was.

There was only small relief to be had from that verification. Ken might be able to rest for a while, but Aya didn't like his being unconscious. Ikeda handed the baton back to the original guard. The guards dragged Ken to the chair and tied him to it, and Ikeda turned his glare on Aya.

"Well. It looks like it's just the two of us for a while... doesn't it?"

Aya didn't dignify that observation with an answer.


	7. Chapter 7

With Ken unconscious and secured to the chair, Ikeda's guards bodily carried Aya to the other chair and tied him to it. Ikeda turned to the table of torture instruments, selecting a small metal dome covered with dozens of tiny knobs, which he set on the smaller table beside Aya.

"This is a little game of discovering how many of your screams it takes to wake him up."

This game clearly did not amuse Aya.

Pulling one of the knobs revealed a half-inch pin, steam curling from the withdrawn needle. Ikeda looked pointedly at Aya and pushed the first one fully into his bicep. He ignored the choked-back cry of pain that came with it.

"You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?"

Ikeda glanced up at Aya, his curiosity pausing the withdrawal of the second pin.

"Singling him out to take the brunt of the punishment. Piling on stress after stress, to both body and mind... You think because he shows less discipline that he's the weak link between us... And that he'll be the first to snap."

After a moment, Ikeda smiled. "Am I wrong?"

"He won't snap."

Ikeda pried open Aya's hand, burying the pin into the center of his sword-bearing palm. "We'll see."

He repeated the process with the other hand, and took a moment to wolfishly eye the blood dripping from each one-- and the accompanying trickle down Aya's arm. It was very striking against the man's particularly fair skin.

Ken was still out.

He stuck a pin into the sole of each foot next, a move that would necessitate extra precautions against wild flailing-- soreness in walking to say the least. Ken was still out.

One at a time, Ikeda added the burning needles to Aya's chest and stomach. Agony ruptured from Aya's throat with every penetration. Three needles, and Ken was still out. Three more; Ken was still out. Another two; Ken was still out.

Ken's eyes finally blurred open as Ikeda was adding the fourteenth pin, pushing it into Aya's left pectoral muscle at an angle. The room's acoustics resonated Aya's screams into every last inch of unoccupied air, into Ken's eardrums until they rattled his headache to newfound life.

It was not his idea of a nice way to wake up.

-------------------------

Omi crouched low behind some shrubberies, hiding from the guards a few feet away. They congested the front gate area, undoubtedly waiting for his surrender.

Ikeda really knew how to hit a person where it hurt, didn't he? That came as no surprise; he wasn't a designer of tortures for nothing. Omi wished the raw fiery tingle in his arms and legs would dispel. Twenty minutes to join his teammates or sacrifice them-- eighteen now.

What was Ikeda doing to them? Had he gotten more serious with them? What if he really killed them? Or what if they were already dead, and his ultimatum was nothing but a trick? Omi wouldn't put it past him. It made the thought of all three of them at that villain's mercy even more unbearable. He looked down at the watch in his hand, slid it back into his pocket, and shut his eyes.

There was only one thing left to do.

-------------------------

Ken needed a few seconds before he felt fully coherent again. The sight of Aya with all those needles in him both sickened and angered him. He tested the strength of the ropes-- no dice.

Well, break time was over. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing while he still had the will to fight.

"What's the matter, Ikeda? You bored with me already?" He challenged.

Ikeda smiled, pausing with needle fifteen in hand and looking over his shoulder. "Ah, you're awake. Very good."

Ken belatedly had to admit that it had not been smart to attract attention with a good two dozen of those nasty-looking needles still in the dome. Shit, maybe he should have let Aya cover this one after all.

"Someone hold his head and keep him still."

**BOOM.**

Thunderous force quaked the room. It rumbled through the air, echoed off the walls. The power flickered, and crumbs fell from the ceiling.

Ken grinned. Omi.

A guard raced into the dungeon. "Ikeda-sama! The factory just blew up!"

Ikeda flushed. "That brat!" He snatched up the guard's communicator. "Sato. Forget the ultimatum. Fan out all troops towards the factory grounds and find him. Kill him!"

There was a pause over the communicator. "I agree. Everyone, you heard the orders. To the factory, immediately."

Ikeda looked at Ken. Venom saturated his order. "Proceed."

-------------------------

Yes.

Omi kept silent in the underbrush, close enough to the entrance to have heard the message on the communicator. With their cover already blown, there was hardly a point in putting off the detonation any longer. He watched the dozens of guards empty the fortress and run for the smoldering wasteland. When the crowd had thinned to nothing, he snuck to the mouth of the fortress and locked them out.

After all, Ikeda wasn't the only one who could send people running in the wrong direction.

-------------------------

Aya was now thoroughly convinced that Ken was an idiot. He hadn't _asked_ him to draw attention back to himself. He was prepared to endure some of the punishment and let Ken rest. Aya was almost irritated that Ken felt he-- who had already been through so much more-- was a better candidate than him for Ikeda's latest concoction of pain.

Rough hands clamped under Ken's jaw and over his forehead. They turned his head to the left, holding it firm and still against their owner's stomach even as Ken began to squirm and struggle against the confining position. Ikeda started his walk over, needle still in hand.

"Leave him alone." Aya said, scowling as his demand was completely ignored.

Ikeda stopped and loomed over Ken, who warily leered back from the corner of his eye.

"It's curious you're the only one of your team without a pierced ear, isn't it?"

Ken tried to protest, but the hand holding his jaw shut forbade all but angry noises.

"I must say, I rather like you without the power to talk back," he commented, immune to the muffled cries of pain as he drove the needle through Ken's right lobe.

Damn it, that was enough. Aya glared. "Wrong ear."

"Is it? And here I thought it was you who'd agreed he would be on the bottom."

"I take it back!"

Ken's eyes flew open.

-------------------------

Shinji uncertainly poked around with the tip of his boot. One would think an explosion and armed intruders running around would be more interesting than this, but so far, he hadn't seen any action. He sort of hoped it stayed that way.

"She's not gonna call me back, is she?"

He glanced at Nao and smiled delicately. "Ah... no."

The conversation ended there; Shinji stared at the ground ahead, where a downed soldier lay with one of their guns' darts embedded at the base of his neck. He shuddered.

"Nao, come look at this!"

Nao winced at the sight, touching the same spot on his own neck. "Ouch. Do you think it's been reported?"

"I doubt it, especially if it wasn't an accident." He frowned. "You don't think there's a traitor here, do you?"

Nao grimaced. "I... Guess we'd better warn the captain?"

Shinji nodded grimly and lifted his communicator.

-------------------------

The verbal retraction had left Aya's mouth before he could think about it. In his heart, he knew his first answer had been a mistake. He'd sided with the enemy and played right into his hopes, encouraging Ikeda to continue down the path of sexual humiliation-- all because he'd chosen pride over teamwork. Stupid.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that." Ikeda said as he fished into his pocket and closed in on Ken's ear.

"Aya!" Ken cried between his teeth. Aya snapped his focus toward the exclamation of unsettling urgency. Now what?

Ikeda withdrew the needle and replaced it with an earring from his pocket. He stepped back to admire his work, allowing Aya a view as well while the guard continued to hold Ken's head.

He was wearing Aya's earring, a drop of blood from the wound slowly running down the dangling metal and turning gold to wet crimson.

If there was anything in the world that could have made Aya even more furious, he couldn't think of it. His sister's earring. In Ken's ear. Dripping Ken's blood, defiled as a tool for humiliating him further.

"Ikeda! Take it off him!" He ordered with a loud growl. "Take. It. Off!" He no longer felt the pain of the needles and struggled with renewed intensity to escape the bindings. He wanted this man dead, _now_.

"No, I think we'll be leaving it in. It can amuse me until you're ready to say something meaningful."

Aya bit his tongue. It bled too.

-------------------------

Omi flicked off the device in his hand, the green radar blacking out into sleep. He returned it to one of the inside pockets of his jacket and faced the double doors in front of him. This had to be the room. The guards were locked out, and the cameras were disabled, all with three minutes left on the clock-- time to spare.

He planted a C-4 bomb along the baseboard in the hall and moved back into the doorway corridor, where he'd find protection from the blast. The explosion would detract attention from the door, and he would slip inside and have Ikeda and any remaining guards downed before they knew what had hit them. And hopefully, all of his friends would still be intact.

Right. Omi shook those worries from his mind. He leaned against the door and pressed an ear to it, listening for voices over the pounding of his heart.

Cold metal pressed against his temple, pinning his head to the door. Omi's stomach lurched. All of his plans disintegrated at the cock of the gun-- deafening against the hall's consuming silence.

"I think you've killed enough people for one night," the captain gently suggested.

-------------------------

With no reply forthcoming despite Aya's obvious fury, Ikeda continued.

"Well, now that I have your attention, I'd like to point out to you the three containers on each table to your side." A nod to the guard, and Ken's head was released.

"You'll also notice the funnels and tubes, which will momentarily be placed in your throats. First, however, you're each going to select one of the containers from the set across from you. Its contents will be poured into your teammate's stomach. One container holds distilled water and will be perfectly harmless. Another contains a concentrated salt water solution, specially crafted to rile the stomach to excruciating levels of pain--"

Ikeda looked pointedly at Ken.

"--but not kill you. The last contains a lethal poison, indistinguishable from the salt water on ingestion-- except that _it_ will go on to eat you alive from the inside out. They've been placed at random in the rows before you. If you refuse to select one, I'll do it for you. From there, we wait. And if your teammate dies after a great deal of writhing in agony, we'll know you picked the poison."

Ken's stomach felt like it might have already ingested the poison. He looked at the containers beside Aya, then to Aya himself. God. What if he chose the wrong one? What if he killed him?

"Your choices, gentlemen..." Ikeda prompted.


	8. Chapter 8

Ken's heart pounded in his chest. He stared at the three containers representing water, pain, and death. Which one was which? He looked to Aya, but aside from anger, Aya didn't even seem phased by the choice; he scowled and calmly answered, "Two."

He made it sound so easy; Ken's eyes ghosted back over the containers. He didn't want to pick any of them, but then Ikeda would choose for him. What if he deliberately picked the poison? Then maybe Ken could have saved Aya if he'd just had the balls to pick something himself.

He swallowed. Tough as it was to face, they _had_ both left for this mission with the understanding that they might die. It was a gruesome aspect of the job that Ken didn't like to think about, but it was there. He locked his eyes on a container.

"One."

Guards once again grabbed Ken's and Aya's heads and pinched their jaws open. The tubes slid down each young man's throat, funnels propped between their teeth to hold them apart. The respectively chosen containers were picked up, the lids opened, and the contents dumped into the funnels.

Ken hadn't liked that feeling at all, and his insides burned with unease, wondering what he'd just swallowed. His stomach issued an angry growl a minute later, pain rising with every minute.

Well, one thing was for sure: that wasn't distilled water.

-------------------------

Omi kept perfectly still, pushing weighted breaths into the cool air around him. As long as the gun held him pressed against the door, he didn't dare move. He clung to the silent contract that it would keep him alive. The pulse in his temple throbbed against unyielding steel; his eyes peered from their corners to Sato's disfigured face.

"I'd wondered how you were still fighting; you're very resourceful. A few minutes ago one of my boys reported the death of a guard-- with a **dart** from our guns in his neck..."

Omi clenched his eyelids shut. "How did you find me here?"

"Don't change the subject." Sato's voice hardened. "Your stash. Show me-- slowly..."

-------------------------

Pain cobwebbed through Ken's stomach. He squinted through the moisture building in his eyes for a hint of what Aya had swallowed. Based on his expression, he probably hadn't gotten distilled water either.

That made the chances of their both living what, one in four? Great.

Ken grit his teeth and leaned his head back, drifting into a reflective, almost meditative state. Strange how what should be a physical distraction instead simply led to a tune-out of the senses as his mind retreated into itself.

How had they known about Aya's earring? It couldn't have been dumb luck prompting its use; had they somehow picked up on it from the brief interaction between them? Was there just an audio feed or a hidden camera as well?

...Ugh. Now that was a thought he did not want to entertain: that somewhere in that fortress was a videotape of all that had happened in that room, including one particular degradation that had led to some extremely awkward results.

"Snapdragon."

Ken blinked out of his daze and looked at Aya. Snapdragon... deception.

-------------------------

Omi pivoted his body towards Sato, staring into the mouth of the gun as it fell back to accommodate the shift. He gripped the zippered edges of his jacket and turned them open. Each side nestled four slender darts in a sewn-in holster. Only one was his own.

"I thought so. Our own fault, wasn't it? We handed the solution of your limited ammo right to you." Sato paused. "How many?"

"...Eh?"

"How many people have you killed tonight?"

Omi mentally blanked from simple incredulity. "I didn't keep track."

"Guess."

"...Twelve?"

"That many, then."

Omi tensed, certain the gun was about to fire. It didn't.

"Why would you kill twelve people?" Sato asked. "To save _three_? ...Or to reach Ikeda, and hit thirteen?"

Omi felt a horrible clench in his gut. He didn't answer.

-------------------------

Ken wasn't sure how long he sat there, writhing in ropes and feeling like his stomach was on fire. Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, what was the difference? It was hell.

After a while, Ikeda spoke. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

This time Ken didn't answer him. He shut his eyes and started bracing himself for the next trial, trying to ignore the stench of vomit on the floor.

"It seems you're running out of steam, my hot-tempered friend."

Ken whisked his head over his shoulder. "One, don't even try to call me something like friend. Two, if you think I'm ready to lay down and lick your feet you're in for a big disappointment. I'm not that easy."

Taut silence stretched the seconds. Ikeda curled a tight fist into Ken's hair. He held him still, leaning down and speaking quietly into his ear.

"Do you think whippings, humiliations, needles and sick stomachs are bad? That's only the beginning. I have things here you wouldn't conjure up in your nightmares. Items that will put you in so much pain you'll wet yourself. Pliers that rip off your fingernails, pins to jam in the quick. Drugs that light every nerve in your body on fire. Stokes made for gouging out eyes. Red-hot rods to replace that dildo. Pincers that tear off flesh. Forked knives for castrating... Or perhaps since your companion's got such small use for his tongue, it would be better cut out, and tortures lain onto him until you alone decide he's had enough."

Ken's skin prickled with cold sweat, the roster of possibilities embedding itself into his imagination, into mental pictures he wished he'd never seen.

Ikeda straightened and released Ken's hair. "I made myself expressly clear in the beginning that conditions will only move from bad to worse until you cooperate. Might I additionally remind you, I only need one working mouth. The other two are expendable."

"What the hell are you--"

"I would suggest, then, that unless you want to sentence your blonde companion to _death_," Ikeda gestured towards Yohji. "That you reconsider further rebellion. Refuse cooperation again, and he'll be executed. Right now, right here in front of you."

Ikeda leaned forward and stared menacingly into Ken's eyes. "Decide."

-------------------------

Omi sucked in a breath as Sato moved in, jerking his darts from the holsters and throwing them out of reach. Damn it!

"Now the detonator."

Omi curled his fingers against the door, eyeing the spilled darts.

Sato tipped his head back towards him with the nozzle of the gun. "Before you do anything rash, _think_. What are your options right now?"

His options. He could try to get to his weapons. He'd be shot or forced to the ground, and turned in to Ikeda.

He could try to simply run away; same outcome.

He could stall and wait for a better opportunity-- he might be able to take Sato off-guard later. But the others were still being tortured in there, might be killed! But if he struggled, he'd either die or join them, and neither of those would complete the mission or save any of them.

"The detonator-- where is it?"

-------------------------

Ken lowered his gaze to the floor. Yohji's life, right there in his hands. Aya would kill him... but Ikeda wasn't asking Aya. Ken didn't look to him this time; he could see that stoic expression clearly enough in his head. Just as clearly as he could see the gentle waves of dark blonde hair framing a deceptively carefree smile, and the warm twinkle to be found in his eyes, when he lowered his shades for a knowing look.

"Your decision," Ikeda snapped his fingers. "Now."

Images of fire and bullets shredding through glass into his chest. Can't lose to Aya, have to hold out for Omi, _Yohji_, claws swallowing the life of a square-jawed smile. Ken bitterly chuckled and looked up with tear-lined eyes-- and a grin that stood on the very precipice of sanity.

"Underestimated me again, didn'tcha? You think I haven't killed a friend before?" The tears fell. "Do it."

-------------------------

The hall exploded.

Orange light blasted into the room from behind the bars of Ken's and Aya's holding cells. A chunk of wall crumbled in flames, and an eerie glow of fire simmered on the floor. Clatter. Whirr. Whump. Omi cried out as the door burst open. He crashed against the floor, sandwiched under Sato and locked in a strangling contest. Wire circled the captain's throat, pulled with all Omi's might. His vision blurred under a boa constrictor grip, closing tighter-- squeezing life from the throbbing pulse in his neck.

The captain's hands were strong. His thumbs bore into Omi's windpipe and instinctively loosened his grip on the wire. A watch clinked to the floor; tears watered Omi's eyes. Wire went limp, and the chokehold broke in favor of pinning Omi's wrists against the ground. He writhed for freedom from those hands, away from the knee planted between his legs.

"Omi!"

"Ken-kun!" Omi craned his neck to try to see his teammates. "Are you two all ri-- Ken-kun!" His voice cracked. "Aya-kun..."

Ikeda stared at Omi like he was an oncoming train. "Sato! What is he doing in here?!"

"Preparing an execution, unless I'm mistaken. He set a bomb along the wall. I caught him listening at the door. When I demanded the detonator, he pulled it out and pushed the button before I could take it. He used it to knock the gun out of my hand, and by then he already had the wire around my throat. I rammed him into the door and we fell through."

"Your men were supposed to kill him out there!"

"He wasn't there for them _to_ kill; the explosion was a decoy. Remember the readings from the trackers? He's already been at the factory."

Realization flashed across Omi's horrified features. Sato turned to him and continued softly. "Besides, between your teammates and Ikeda himself, you shouldn't have any other business outside this room. Where else could you possibly want to go?"

Ikeda looked distinctly uncomfortable. He wrangled out a smile. "That's right, isn't it, Sato? Well, you're just in time, brat. Guards, get the watch and kill the wire man."

Omi panicked, his struggles prompted into renewed frenzy. Abruptly he stopped, looking down his body. He drove his knee towards Sato's groin. Sato's reflexes were fast enough to intercept the blow at his thigh, but a distraction was all Omi needed. He freed his hand, seized the watch and pitched it out of their reach. It skidded between the bars that striped its owner's figure. Sato and another guard hefted Omi to his feet, securely holding him.

Omi couldn't tear his eyes from the guards. They unlocked the door to Yohji's cell and stepped inside. His chest felt heavy with pressure: Ken and Aya, tied up. His own arms, immobile. The guards drew closer. Closer.

"Now!" He yelled.

Yohji's eyes shot open. He grabbed the watch, flung wire and tied the door open. "Sharp, but... you still didn't see our trump card."


	9. Chapter 9

Omi's heart swelled with satisfaction as Yohji sprang to life. It no longer bothered him that he was immobilized-- that wouldn't last. Sato shot him a dirty look, but he wasn't intimidated. He smiled back.

Ikeda spun on Yohji in horror. "When did you wake up?!"

"Me?" Yohji said, planting a solid kick into a guard's stomach. "I've been awake the whole time. What, did you expect me to _announce_ that I was conscious and ready to join the fun?"

"Yohji!"

"Drop it, Ken! Would you rather I have my hands free now or not?" Yohji sailed a line of wire to the neck of the guard holding Omi, triggering an epidemic of chaos.

Omi jerked out of the weakened hold and sprinted for his weapons; Sato snagged the hood of his jacket, slinging him to the ground. Another guard grabbed the wire connecting Yohji's wrist and the attacked guard's throat, while three more dogpiled Yohji himself. The attacked guard escaped Yohji's wire and hurried to Ikeda's side.

Ikeda snatched up his communicator. "All troops, return to the prisoners' room at once!"

"This is your captain, hold your positions!" Sato yelled into his own, diving to Omi's legs for a lower body tackle.

"Sato!"

"I didn't clear them out of the halls just--" Omi's foot rammed against Sato's face, freeing him to scramble away. "Just to have them come running back! Too many have died already."

Omi couldn't believe what he was hearing, but it was hardly a time for questions. His eyes honed in on the long table of instruments beside Ken and Aya. He swept his hand across it, raking up a syringe, a forked knife, and a knitting needle. Three makeshift darts, splayed between his knuckles as a fan of destruction.

Sato stopped and quickly fell into a guarded stance. "I don't learn, do I? Resourceful."

Omi threw. "Don't complain when you're giving me the resources!"

"It was a compliment," Sato said as he skirted the projectiles' paths and charged, aiming a kick at the young assassin. Omi ducked under the table, which toppled and crashed behind him. He jumped behind it and dashed to the back of the room, spinning around to find Sato blocking his escape options.

His gaze darted left and right: where could he run? What else could he use? Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an electric baton on the other side of the room.

Sato shifted his stance. "Shame we had to be enemies; your strategy was brilliant."

"Sato, what strategy?!" Ikeda cried. "He's been fumbling under pressure-- you said so yourself!"

"I was wrong; he's been playing us the whole time. He _wanted_ to be found near the entrance. By suggesting his teammate was with him, he could redirect defenses outside-- a cleaner path for his teammate inside, and a golden opportunity for him to restock on ammo."

"No... There's no way that boy could have evaded all of those darts! They took down every one of his teammates!"

Omi flew at Ikeda. "That's not true!"

Ikeda shrieked and drew his knife. Sato sprinted to the side, thwarting Omi's attempt and pinning him against the wall. Only after Ikeda seemed reassured of Omi's entrapment did he move again. Eyes flickered to the open door to Yohji's cell; he cut the wire securing it and slammed it shut, locking in Yohji and guards alike.

He brushed some imaginary dust from his jacket, then straightened the lapels. "That's not a lie, brat. The security tapes can prove it!"

"Oh, can they?" Yohji questioned, tightening his wire around one guard's neck as the other two wrestled with him. "Let's review the facts, shall we? Your men hit Aya at point blank while he was pinned to the ground. They hit Ken while he was holding still for them at the bottom of an enclosed area. And you only think they hit me. That dart on my arm was planted. If it took any less skill than that to hit a target it would drop into the negative digits."

"And what I'd like to know..." Sato ferreted his hand under Omi's jacket through a torrent of struggles. "Is why a team already down half its crew would go to the trouble of setting up a fake capture-- at the expense of cutting free teammates down to _one_--" Sato's eyes lit; he pulled out a tracker. "Unless he were a Trojan Horse."

Sato paused and regarded Yohji. "There aren't many places to hide a tracking device on a naked person. ...Dare I ask?"

Yohji looked mortally offended. "I swallowed it!"

Omi squirmed away in the moment of distraction. He swooped low and grabbed the baton, while Sato yanked a whip off the wall. Omi's gloved hand smacked the wall and redirected his momentum to the forked knife he'd thrown moments earlier. He snatched it up. Eyes focused on Ikeda-- this was his best chance.

"Wait!" Sato yelled.

No way in hell. Omi flung with pinpoint aim; Ikeda's reflexes pulled his guard in front of him to shield. A gargled scream sounded the guard's final breath, and with no remaining guards outside Yohji's cell, Ikeda shrank to the wall to cower in solitude.

"I said wait!" Sato's whip lashed out, scoring Omi's cheek and bursting the skin open. He reeled back with a cry.

"Omi!" Ken yelled, watching over his shoulder.

Omi grit his teeth and angled the baton into the whip's next attack so that the tail wound around the staff. He grabbed the slack with his other hand, holding it as well as he could to prevent the whip's retraction. "What's wrong with you?! If you care about protecting lives why are you helping him?!"

"Do you even know where these tools are being used? In the military. They need these weapons!" Sato wrestled and pulled against Omi's planted feet. "Enemies are holding our troops prisoner, putting them through the same thing. Do you think their soldiers will just cough up their whereabouts on request? What about the people still missing loved ones to those monsters? Are you telling me you wouldn't do whatever it took to save one of yours?"

Omi stared into Sato's eyes. That was what this was about? He shook his head. "You're wrong! Torturing the helpless is cowardly! Even for information! Is that the kind of mentality anyone in the military should have?! Is it doing any justice to those who bravely fought and are facing unspeakable fates for it?!"

"You think they'd rather stay prisoners than have us do anything to save them?" Sato abruptly yanked; Omi staggered and lost the whip tail.

"And what about all the innocent people suffering and dying at your hands? Ahh?" Ken snarled. "Don't their lives mean anything?"

"Sacrifices are necessary sometimes. They--"

"Even mothers and their children?! Say that again, you bastard!"

Yohji slammed against the bars of the cell, drawing Omi's eyes to the noise. Pinned. Another crack of the whip smacked his leg and tore a yelp from his throat. He jumped back onto a low platform, glaring at his choice of weapon. Damn that baton-- it was practically useless. He'd never been a close-range fighter! And Sato could dodge projectiles. As long as he had that whip, there was no way to get close enough for a strike. How was he ever going to get in a hit?

The tail of the whip curled around his ankle, jerking him off his feet. For a fleeting moment in midair, he felt divorced from gravity, his body caught in an illusory sense of weightlessness and freedom from burdens.

Then physics reclaimed his body and panic gripped his heart. His back smacked against the platform. Impact pummeled the air from his lungs, flashed white before his eyes. A spasm jolted through his muscles.

Inertia ripped the baton from his hand to a resounding clunk against the floor.

-------------------------

"Omi!"

Ken felt a weight of panic exploding in his stomach. Sato relentlessly pressed on with the whip, denying Omi the chance to get back on his feet. A pattern of smack and cry sounded from the platform as braided leather popped welts onto virgin skin.

Ken struggled against the ropes with all his strength. This was not good! Yohji pinned and behind bars; he and Aya tied to the damned chairs; Omi quarantined to the platform. He winced at every slap against Omi's chest, his stomach, his neck and shoulders. Crack to sternum, crack to hip, crack to right arm--

"Ken, Aya!" Yohji yelled. "You have to do something!"

"What do you want us to do?! We're tied to our flippin' seats!"

"...Ken!"

The urgency of Aya's voice whipped Ken's gaze to him, those intense eyes that looked almost manic with desperation.

"Can you do a bicycle kick?"

"..._What_?!"

"Can you?!"

"Yes! Why?!"

"Do it! The can on the table!"

Ken's eyes widened. He looked at the leg of the table and roped his ankle around it. His foot jerked back, causing the table to fall forward. Its contents spilled towards the floor; Ken angled his foot and caught a container on its side.

One last look behind him for Sato, and Ken bucked the container into the air, shoving his feet off the ground and snaring a full-power kick to the can in his backward descent.

His head smacked the stone at the same time the can hit Sato's. The lid popped off and its contents exploded everywhere.

"Omi! It's salt water!" Aya yelled.

Omi opened his eyes to Sato on one knee, scrubbing his eyes. He gasped, snatched the baton back up, and slapped it into the puddle.


	10. Chapter 10

Aya had seen a lot of death in the last few years. He decided at that moment that no murder by sharp objects or strangulation could quite compare to the violence of an electrocution. Sato's body stiffened and crackled like bacon on a fryer. The skin turned bright red, swelling and stretching to the point Aya wondered if the man might literally explode. He turned his eyes from the sight, but the sweet-rotten stench of burning flesh saturated the air and invaded his nostrils.

Omi pulled the baton out. The body collapsed into the puddle, bulging eyes vacant with the stare of death.

With the captain destroyed, Omi ran to the knitting needle and syringe, throwing them into the backs of Yohji's remaining two attackers. Yohji kicked off the bodies and stood up, turning a menacing glare on Ikeda, who smartly scrambled for the exit.

Omi beat him to it and dashed out into the hall. Glimmering silver lines whirred around Ikeda's arms; he flailed his limbs wildly, useless against the wire that held him like a marionette.

"Wait, please! Don't do this!"

"Don't?" Yohji repeated, tightening his grip on the wire. "How many of your victims begged like that, I wonder..."

"No, you don't understand! I'm just--!"

"A talking corpse," Aya finished.

Ikeda froze, his eyes darting to Aya. Aya shifted his gaze to the door where Omi stood, Sato's gun in his hand.

-------------------------

Omi ignored the swollen stings throbbing through his body. He looked at his teammates, studying their conditions. Red marks from electrical shocks. Vomit and blood on the floor around their chairs-- tubes and containers on the table from forced feeding. He saw Aya turned into a human pincushion, dried red trickles painting his skin in violence. He saw Ken covered in bloodied welts of broken skin. He saw the earring-- whose it was, and the degradation for which it now stood.

A gaze of diamond-hard intensity looked back at Ikeda. Omi raised his arm, taking aim at Ikeda's head.

Ikeda's grip around the knife tightened. "Don't shoot; we can talk, compromise! You've killed so many tonight; I haven't killed anyone! I'm not the worse one here, am--"

The gun fired; Ikeda screamed, blood spilling down his neck from what remained of his right ear.

"**That** was for Ken-kun."

Ikeda gaped at Omi in chilled silence for several seconds. "No... Your friends are all alive! See?! You should--"

Another shot, through the hand.

"--be thankful for that!" He wailed.

Another, through the other hand. The knife clattered against the floor; Omi clasped the gun with both hands.

"For Aya-kun."

Fountains of blood from the wounds. Omi never flinched. Another bullet to the right bicep.

"For Yohji-kun!"

Tears and blood and screams and pleas. Omi's hands trembled around the gun, eyes glistening with moisture as they scanned Ikeda's body: where next to inflict pain without risking a lethal hit. Left kneecap. Right collarbone. Bone splintered and shattered. Ikeda dangled in Yohji's strings as a pitiful, sobbing bundle of terror and agony.

Omi dropped the gun; it was out of bullets. He clenched his eyes shut and sucked in a steadying breath. Lime green twirled between his fingers-- his last toxic projectile, saved all night for this one defining moment. His eyes answered Ikeda's petrified stare with remorseless fury. The dart snapped into ready position.

This one was his.

-------------------------

Ken didn't get up after Omi freed everyone; he was still perfectly aware of the dildo inside him, and he really didn't care to let Omi find out about it. He busied himself futzing with the catch to the earring.

"Hold still, Ken-kun." Omi brushed Ken's hand away, his own still trembling faintly as he moved in on the earring himself. "It'll start bleeding again if it's not removed carefully."

"Actually, Omi," Yohji cut in, ushering him unceremoniously towards the door. "It looks like it's going to be up to you to find our clothes. You **are** the only one of us that's still decent."

"W-wait a minute! Yohji-kun!"

"There's nothing more for you to do here that we can't do for ourselves. And the faster you find our belongings, the faster we can go home."

Omi grimaced and looked back worriedly at Ken and Aya. "I'll be right back, ok? Don't go anywhere!"

"I really wouldn't worry about that..." Ken mumbled through half-lidded eyes.

Once Omi was gone, Yohji turned and leveled a long, serious look at Ken. He lowered his voice. "I'd take that thing out while his back is turned, or it's going to be quite an uncomfortable walk back."

Ken balked. "Yohji!"

Omi returned several minutes later, his eyes barely peeking over the bundle of clothes in his arms; they dressed and returned home in complete silence. Aya shut himself in his room as soon as Yohji had parked. Yohji lingered in the kitchen and started the kettle. Omi did what he could for Ken's injuries, then let the spiced aroma of ginger tea tempt him downstairs to join Yohji. Ken settled himself into bed for sleep, only to hear another knock on the door: Aya.

"...Hey," he said, looking the man up and down. Aya gave a small nod and returned the inspective roving of the eyes. Ken shifted uncomfortably.

"Snapdragon. The trick with the cans... how did you know they all had salt water?"

Aya slowly blinked. "It was a psychological attack. The goal was to force a random choice for a life-or-death matter... then prolong the dread of the outcome. Having them all the same guarantees the pain and fear, and eliminates the risk of killing us both." He paused, expression somewhat apologetic. "I couldn't tell you while we were under watch."

"Yeah. I know. He just would have skipped to killing Yohji." Ken sighed, turning his gaze to the opposite wall. "Look... What happened in there, with--"

"Drop it." Aya warned.

Ken whipped his head back. He stared defiantly, but no words came. Finally, he grumpily cast his eyes away again. "Aa..."

Aya made it two steps before Ken changed his mind.

"A**bout** who would bottom...!"

Omi's eyes widened at the monstrous thump from above-- which sounded suspiciously like a pair of bodies colliding with the floor. Yohji sipped from his mug, eyes on the ceiling. He dismissively shrugged and sighed.

"Can't be helped, can it?" A secret smile. "They're probably caught up in another argument."

"They're supposed to be resting!"

Yohji eyed the swollen purple laceration over Omi's cheek. "You know, you could stand to benefit from a little of that yourself. You aren't going to catch any dates looking like that."

"I can't; I still have to write the mission report." Omi cast his eyes down, then smiled hopefully and pulled a videotape from his jacket. "Luckily, I did at least find the security room while I was looking for your clothes. Knowing what happened to them in there should help a lot, don't you think?"

Yohji choked on his tea. "I think I need a cigarette. Good night, Omi."


End file.
